The 95th Hunger Games: A SYOT
by unicorns5ever
Summary: Peeta and Prim were never reaped, leading Thresh to victory over the 74th Hunger Games. The rebellion never happened without its Mockingjay. Five years from the Fourth Quarter Quell is where our story starts, and the promise of bloodspill hangs in the air. Who will be the lone survivor? SYOT **OPEN**


**Hello, fanfictioners! Although I made this account specifically for THG, this will be my first SYOT. Submit your tributes by PM - other than that, I don't think I have any other rules. Have fun making your tributes!**

TRIBUTE FORM

Name:

Age:

Gender:

District:

Personality:

Appearance:

Family:

Friends:

History/Background:

Likes:

Dislikes:

** PRE-ARENA**

Token:

Reaped or Volunteered?:

Reaction/Why did they volunteer?:

Reaping Outfit:

Chariot Outfit:

Chariot Angle:

Interview Outfit:

Interview Angle:

Training Strategy:

Training Score:

**THE ARENA**

Die in the Bloodbath?:

Strategy for Bloodbath:

Strategy for Arena:

Alliances?:

Romance?:

Preferred Weapon(s):

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Preferred Death:

Why should YOUR tribute win?:

**DETAILS & RELATIONSHIPS WITH DISTRICT PARTNER, MENTOR, STYLIST & ESCORT**

Relationship with District Partner:

Mentor (name, age, year they won, looks, personality, relationship with your tribute):

Stylist (name, age, looks, personality, style, relationship with your tribute):

Escort (name, age, looks, personality, relationship with your tribute):

**PROLOGUE**

I shiver as I make my way up the hill. Around my torso is nothing but a t-shirt and a ratty old jacket - I probably should've worn something warmer, but I could really care less.

It's not even November yet and it's deathly freezing. Any normal person would be getting frostbite in this kind of weather, but I'm used to the cold. The entire arena that I survived in was covered in snow.

I'm in the middle of the woods, in a meadow where the sunlight streams through the canopies. This was where Aria and I would play in back when we were kids. Before the Reaping that changed it all, we were as carefree as ever, Aria in particular. She was always so happy. That's why I loved her. I hate to admit it, but I still do. The memory of her still haunts my thought every second of the day, every second of the night.

She was so beautiful, with her dark brown curls and her glittery green eyes. Her personality would've convinced you that she was invincible, and she thought she was.

But the Hunger Games proved her wrong.

I land on my butt at the top of the hill. Aria made me a daisy chain once while we were sitting on this exact hill.

"Only girls where daisy chains!" I complained, but she still put it on my head.

"It's a symbol of How much I love you," she said with a smile. I had blushed madly - even back then, I loved her, but I knew that she didn't love me the same way.

I smile a little at the memory, but it quickly fades when I realize I'll never see her again. It was hard to take in, the fact that my best friend who I've known all my life is gone, forever. Sometimes I wake up in the morning expecting her to be waiting for me at our lockers in school, but a) I don't go to school anymore, not since I came home from the Capitol, and b) Aria is dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead. The word seems so foreign to me, yet so familiar.

I pick up a rock from next to me and throw it into the thicket of trees in anger. Why her? Why did they have to take Aria, sweet little Aria? Why not me?

The next few minutes I spend finding rocks and throwing them directly into tree trunks, but they don't break, so I switch to pieces of ice. They crack as soon as the make impact onto the trees. My fury flares as I throw a particularly large piece of ice, but the anger dissolves into misery, and from misery to sadness, and so I fall to the ground and bury my face in my hands.

Crying. I've been doing a lot of tha lately.

It's a while before I decide to go back home, and when I do, I have no trouble finding the path. Aria had taught me the way. She had a photographic memory.

Aria. Aria, Aria, Aria.

**That's it! Just in case you didn't figure it out, that was in the POV of last year's Victor. His name is Jaxon Aces and he's from District Three. It's definitely a tragic Games D: If you want to read more about him, tell me in the reviews! Also, don't forget to submit your tributes. 'Til the next time, ta-ta!**

**~Nat**


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